I'll keep the fucking sky open
by Kriss Vengeance
Summary: Frank is delusional and sees himself as a savior. One day a a voice inside him tells him to find Gerard and save him from his tragic path of life. My Chemical Romance Frerard.


**Chapter 1 – A savior is born**

My leather boots were planted firmly onto the mud that seemed to be growing increasingly by each drop of rain. The dirt and the water were smudged together as glue to my clothes, and my leather jacket had seen better days. My jacket was no longer black, but rather a brown-ish color that seemed to be stuck into the fabric. The cigarette between my yellow, nicotine fingers was burning up, and I take one last drag before I throw it in the mud and step on it. I run a hand through my dark, almost shoulder long hair before I pull over my hood to hide my face in fabric and darkness as I become a creature of the dark.

I soon find myself crouching onto a big rock leading to an endless fall of nothingness. I think I'm still in the woods but I'm not sure by the intensity of fog leaning in on me. I raise my head to the sky as my sight gets stuck at one particular item in the dark. The item was a brown, wooden door that seemed to be painted onto the sky like collage. I wanted to open the door and see where it took place, but every time I raised my hand to touch the door handle it would spin further away from me. Utterly confused I find myself wondering what was behind the door and whether or not if it was actually for me.

Watching as the door disappeared into nothingness, I was listening to the familiar voice appearing into my ear as a radio. This voice was my one and only boss, the man I never saw but knew existed by the sound of his orders. His dark, harsh voice always held a chill behind every word he spoke to me, and I just knew there was no way to disobey this man. I would follow his orders as if my life depended on it no matter the outcome of it. And so I had been for years.

The whole time he was talking I was quiet, only nodding when he questioned me and my intensions. I always felt weak talking to him because of his incredible force of abeyance and strictness in his voice, something I missed in my own vocal bury. Every time he would talk to me it was like falling into a trance of redemption, while looking for the light switch. Each time I would put on my mask and wait for a name or an instruction. I was a savior for the broken, right there behind my mask of cowardness.

After given a name my lips curl into a crooked smile. I feel powerful as directions are given and the words are spoken. I soon walk down the street in Belleville, surrendered by my own actions and in the belief of war around every corner. As far as my eyes tell, I can only see broken hearted people and the illusion of myself the savior. I'm marching like a military man down the street of the living, keeping my sight forward the whole time as I always should know what I'm leaning on.

Black raven birds are appearing from the sky, and soon most of them take place on the trees around me. They don't make a sound as they seem to be watching every move I take. I feel slightly worried by the intensity in their yellow, pointy eyes at me. I drag my hoodie further down my face, trying to hide in the dark and strike by as nobody. The raven birds seem to have grown bigger by only seconds, fooling me to believe they're a potential threat or enemies. Soon the moon appears to shine down the street and I feel somehow positive it shuns to lead me in the right direction. I follow the moonlight and feel much more confident now, as I stop dead on my track when the moon seems to stand still.

The neighborhood seems beautiful in the dark, but there's only one house that has my full attention. Looking upon this brown, little house in front of me I smile crookedly and I just know I'm at the right place.

My eyes are on the first window that frames a young man inside. Looking at him I knew it was right. It was _him_.

I _knew._

The never ending rain seemed to have stopped for a second as the sky opened up like a fucking portal. As shooting star lights were spit out like bullets from the sky it lit up like fireworks in the night. My sore eyes were playing tricks on me, but my mind seemed to believe everything my eyes told. Needless to say, the dark seemed to have an effect on me beyond anything else. Whether or not the sky really had a portal, I was determined to keep the fucking sky open. I wanted to know who, or what was on the other end. I somehow found comfort in believing that it was this God like creature on the other end, waiting for me to one day take a step into the portal and become whatever existed there. But the right time had still not arrived.

Moving my eyes away from the sky, I found myself closer to the window to the brown house. Crouching underneath the window, only my fingertips held onto the window sill. There was only a dimmed light inside the house, but it allowed me to see most of the living room. Seconds later the young man appeared into the room, and I lowered my head away from the window scared he might bust me. If he saw me now, the whole plan would fail and my boss would punish me like so many times before.

I took another chance and slowly lifted my head. I could see the young man clearly now. The face of the man held nothing but sadness and distress, and I found myself studying him carefully. His lips were only a fine line, and his black hair lay slightly over his left eye. He seemed a little annoyed by his hair and pulled the black fringe behind his ear. The boy looked exhausted and I found myself wondering why he wasn't in bed for the night. But that was only until I saw the razor blade between his fingers.

The young man suddenly seemed to be in some kind of fight with his own demons. He was shaking his head so firmly he had to hold it between his hands in his lap. The way he sat on the wooden chair made his back chromed, and it seemed almost painful to be in such a position. A minute went by before the young man straightened his back and opened his hazel brown eyes slowly. His whole arm was shaking when he lifted his hand to press the razor blade against his own skin. Blood started running immediately and soon his whole arm was covered in sticky, red pulp. It kept running down to the floor, making a small pit on the carpet. The young man didn't seem to care, and pressed the razor blade against his own skin one more time. Another minute went by and slowly but surely his lips chromed into a wicked smile. The color went back to his face and he looked more human than before. I could almost swear he looked kind of…pleased? Then without as much as cleaning up after himself, he left the room and went upstairs.

The plan was to follow him to school the next morning. I had to watch him in order to find out about his routines and habits. If I didn't do that I wouldn't be able to save him from this tragic path of life he was heading dangerously close to. I was going to save this manas my life depended on it.

Suddenly the light switches on in the window upstairs. The curtains were closed but I could see his shadow moving. A cigarette rested between his fingers and he seemed to be walking in circles from what I could see. His arm must have stopped bleeding as I saw no sign of drops. I soon turned away from the house and started walking away. There was no use for me to stay the whole night, because I'd seen exactly what I needed to. My boss was right as so many times before – this was someone who needed to be saved.

I don't live in a house or a fancy apartment or anything close to it. I live in an old trailer and have been for a couple of years – as far as I can remember. I don't remember anything about my life but a few years back and I never find myself wondering about it. I don't care how my life must have been like, because I'm too busy living the life I have now. As far as I know, maybe I was born a 25 year old man, or just simply never existed. All I know is that my boss, the voice I keep hearing, brought me the life I have now. He brought me back through a parade as a savior for the broken. He made me an important man, and that is the only life I know.

Back in the trailer I lit a candle and place it on the little wooden table. This is one of the little furniture I own beside a chair and some pillows in the corner as a bed. I also own a flashlight, some cigarettes I stole and the clothes I'm wearing. A tiny piece of a broken mirror is also hanging on the wall next to my bed along with a single wooden shelf with a razor on it.

I let out a much needed sigh before I sit down and grab a piece of bread on the table. I got the bread from a homeless man called Ted, who shares his earnings with me more than willingly. He is the only person I know on this earth. We have an arrangement that whenever he got something he shares with me and vice versa, which keeps the both of us alive. He always sits at the corner of 25th street, buried in his own carton house and cup of coffee for coins. He's 55 years old and knows more about this town than I do, leaving him to sometimes mentor me.

As I finish the last piece of bread I shut the candle with my fingertips, before I strip down to my shirt and lay down in bed. My last thoughts wander to the young man in Belleville before my brain shuts down and terror dreams appear like any other night. The deeper I fall into this nightmare the more I fight back. I'm drained in sweat by the time morning appear and I found myself slightly puzzled while staring at the hole in the wall that seemed to have appeared due the night.


End file.
